Friday, 30 September 2011

This was the second beach I surfed, and the first I actually stood on for any length of time (so technically the first beach I surfed):

Conditions were small, with just a gentle, waist high wave peeling left and right, and breaking into clear, clean water. A seal was bobbing around for a while, curious to know what was going on. It wasn't epic surf, but fun, and a beautiful place to be surfing alone.

Earlier, I had seen another seal as I had breakfast, on the other side of the island. This was the view from my bed, when I woke:

Finally, waiting for the ferry, I explored this beach, with a lovely clinker rowing boat called Isabella pulled up to the high tide mark, on the sheltered side of the island:

I messed around having lunch and doing van chores until eventually the ferry arrived, and took me off to Barra, damp and salty and excited to be moving on.

The Plan

A few years ago, I spent several months living in a van, surfing my way round Britain. I started in the Hebrides and headed clockwise, ending in North Wales fourteen months later. For a map, click around here.